


A Million Dollar Girl

by FabrayLopez



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Romance, Sex, quinntana
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FabrayLopez/pseuds/FabrayLopez
Summary: Noah Puckerman knew that he was playing with fire; he knew that his addiction one day will make his life harder. He was ready for everything.  However, nothing could have prepared him for losing his family to a woman who gave him a million for a night with his wife.





	A Million Dollar Girl

A Million Dollar Girl

"What are you doing here?" Quinn brushed fat snowflakes from her shoulders and stepped from the foyer into a living room, a smile on her lips. Beth lounged in one corner of the couch, a blanket drawn across her lap and a mug of hot chocolate balanced on her thigh. The room was dimly lit with a light flowing from a television’s screen. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

Beth groaned. “It’s a weekend, mom.” An edge of annoyance inside her voice. “Plus, I wanted to wait for you."

Quinn shrugged off her coat and draped it across the back of a broken chair. "Well, aren't you sweet."

Beth offered her a mug, a cheeky grin on her lips.

She curled around her daughter, stealing a part of her blanket, making the teenager pout, and reached for the mug, curving both hands around it to warm her icy fingers.

The wispy threads of steam, rising from the mug, hit her face, warming her algid cheeks.

"So, how was your day," asked Beth, sitting up to steal the cup back.

Grinning, Quinn gently swatted her daughter's hands away. Beth's huff failed to draw her attention as she idly traced the blanket, slowly her body adjusting to the warmth.

"Good, apart from your aunt Rachel bugging me every two seconds."

"What did she want?" Beth wrinkled her nose.

A cold draft seeped through the window's seal, and they both shivered. A lace of frost already forming around its edges. Quinn groaned, glaring at the window. "Why can't your father fix this stupid window?"

Time had performed irreversible deeds upon the house. In the midnight’s blue sky, the house looked just like any other in the district, not too big, not too small. 

When the first orange hued rays of sunrise kissed the ground, cracks and pale colors showed its age. Beth could never run up the stairs. Every one of them was a different height from the last, making it harder to judge how high or low to lift her feet. Also, dark brown wooded floor creaked in the spots their family learned not to step on in the night.

The house was catastrophic, but it was a roof over their heads, shelter from the biting coldness, and it was enough to call it home.

Quinn passed the mug back to her daughter and with a determination full scowl stood up. "You know what? Let's fix it ourselves."

She was ready to make changes! Even if it was one o'clock in the morning.

"Mom, give dad time. He's just tired, he'll fix it tomorrow." Beth said, quick to protect her father.

Quinn let out a loud sigh, letting her daughter’s big eyes to calm her. However, she still was bent on fixing it herself as soon as possible.

Her husband won't. He’s never fixed anything inside the house. He always just sat on the couch when he had free time, watched television with his face full of crap and drunk his beer, ignoring his daughter. Other times he spent his time with his buddies in a bar. 

"Mom, c'mon, you don't even know how to fix it." Beth paused to take a sip from her cup. "Leave this job to him. It would be the ultimately best decision ever." Beth bobbed her head. "Best decision ever."

"Only because it's late and you need to sleep." Quinn said, eyeing her daughter for a second.

Beth groaned. “It. Is. A. Weekend. Mother.”

Quinn’s father wasn't a good man, but he taught her to thank for every smallest thing, to pray for happiness and forgiveness. It was a habit that she learned to love.

Every time she prayed with the silver moon hanging in the sky, she thanked the god for her daughter.

Beth looked more like her father, the same nose and lips. She also had a little bit Quinn inside her and something else. That something else was just a tiny part and to witch Quinn was grateful. Beth didn’t resembled Lucy. She had her eyes. Quinn’s eyes. And a smile. Nothing more. 

Maybe also hair. Beth had brown hair, with slightly reddish tones in them. 

Her daughter needed glasses, but not bad as Quinn. A smile like her mother's, a smirk like father's. Her daughter loved sport, maybe because Beth's father did. He was the one introducing her to soccer and basketball, but Quinn was the one showing cool gymnastics tricks.

"Mom," Beth interrupted her thoughts, her voice higher and her hazel eyes were shining, a pleading look on her face.

"It doesn't work." Quinn sniffed, dismissing her daughter with a wave of her hand. “You know that we have to wake up earlier tomorrow- “

“Today.”

Quinn rolled her eyes. ”- to get ready for Rachel’s party.” 

Beth huffed. “You do understand that I’m going to be on my phone all night?”

“Don’t make me take it away.”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

“Quinn, babe, there’s something I need to talk about with you.” 

“Puck, can’t we do it tomorrow? I’m exhausted.”

“No, it can’t wait”

XXXXXXXXXXXX

His empty promises were washed away by the rain, but he wrote them again. 

"We're going to have a big house, a pool and a dog," Puck said, grinning, ignoring her skeptical look. "We're going to have a good life, babe." 

To Quinn happiness was like a day without clouds; that kind of day that was just there, empty, but there, you couldn't see it, but you could feel it. A day when an ambiguous shadow wasn’t keeping sun rays at bay. 

She let his words flow to her heart, she let herself believe. She hoped even if she knew it was foolish, but he smiled-it seemed that everything will be easy. 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"How could you?" She screamed, throwing a book she never found time to read at him but missing miserably. "It was everything we ever had."

Anger boiled deep in her system, as hot as lava; it hovered over her like a morning fog, clouding her judgment, her will.

"I'm sorry," he shouted back.

Quinn was taught to never show her emotions. To hide her disappointment, to hide her sadness. She was taught by her father at a very young age that it’s very important to have a mask. 

However, today her bravado finally cracked. She managed to keep her cool when she was a teenager, still in high school, giving birth. She managed to bite her tongue when a truck run into her car.

She didn’t manage not to scream out her heart that night. 

In that moment she wanted to cry and burn his things-even him; to buy a liquor that would burn on her tongue and laugh.

"I'll fix it, I promise," Puck shouted, his eyes pleaded but they only met fire and hatred which were smoldering in her narrowed eyes.

Liar.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

His words still rang in her head like a song on a radio. It was constantly on repeat. She loathed it.

Her husband just lost everything they ever had: Beth's money, their car, their house.

Maybe if she would have had started believing in her husband, maybe, just maybe, she could have become his lucky charm.

Maybe if she would have been there for him this would never happen.

But she failed and he failed.

They both failed.

Maybe because he kept talking about the future while she was still stuck in her past.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Rachel, we don't have anything anymore. I can't think about some stupid party." She sighed for a thousandth time.

An anger puff from the other side of the line was heard. "First of all, I'm offended that you, Miss Fabray, just called my party stupid- "

"And I don't care." Quinn pinched the bridge of her nose.

"And I'm going to forgive you, only this time- "

"Again, Miss Berry." Quinn lips curved into a sneer. "I don't care."

"You're my best friend, Quinn, and I want you to celebrate this huge milestone in my life- "

"Stop being selfish." Quinn said.

"But I need you," Rachel said, and Quinn could imagine the doe eyes and pout gracing her lips. “I understand that you have some- “

Quinn snorted at the word some. 

“-difficulties in your life right now, but it’s a great opportunity to forget it for a second.”

With a sigh that was resigned and weary Quinn nodded, but then she remembered that Rachel couldn't see her. "Okay, we'll be there."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

It was stupid to come there.

They needed a plan to survive, not this nonsense. 

Her husband was nervous- a tiny amount of sweat on his brown, lips tight, running his hand over his newly shaved head. She didn’t understand why. Mostly he liked opportunities to talk with other people. 

Maybe it was because of her. Maybe he felt that everything in her, even the cells, wanted to strangle him. 

Her daughter was another story. Beth was full of energy, being a bigger star than Rachel, going from greeting one guest to another, dancing with that cute but shy boy. 

And Quinn just felt numb.

Little polite talks, polite smiles and jokes. It was like an old life- a life of Quinn Fabray, when her father still called her daughter and wanted her to meet adults. Fake smiles and fake friendships. It was comforting, even if she hated it.

"Mr. Puckerman, " A raspy voice woke Quinn's body, her ears perked up and she looked at the source of the music.

"Uh." Puck quickly touched his chest, scratching his collarbone. "Santana," he said. "I mean, Miss Lopez." He gulped.

That was weird. Quinn narrowed her eyes, looking at her husband, but her eyes quickly came back to the most gorgeous woman she’s ever seen. She was one of the most powerful woman in the world. Her company was worth millions. She was genius, managing to create such a strong company at a young age and now she must only be, like, thirty-three.

Santana Lopez her name was.

Quinn liked her name. San-ta-na, it sounded soft inside her brain, yet her last name sounded strong. 

"It's nice to see you again." Santana smirked.

Quinn's jaw fell slack. 

What the…

"You, ugh, too." Puck jaw tightened.

"May I ask you who's this beautiful lady with you," Santana asked, cocking her head to side and looking at Quinn. 

Quinn felt bare at the moment. She leaned against her husband for a better support, for protection from those piercing black eyes, because her legs turned to jelly. 

Puck puffed out his chest, wrapping his arm around Quinn's waist. "Quinn- my wife," Puck said, smiling and looking at Quinn like a proud husband.

"Your wife?" Santana said, something akin to disappointment. 

She had a husband; she shouldn't have felt lust boiling her blood. Plus, Santana was a woman, one attractive, woman- whom Quinn immediately wanted to ravish- so she shouldn't have felt this energy waking up her senses.

She felt her hot blood warming her cheeks, painting the patches of skin in rosy. Santana stared at her not moving her eyes.

Quinn lips moved to wet her dry lips and those eyes followed. She felt like a pray, but her body buzzed with excitement. 

"Miss Lopez, it's a pleasure to meet you," Quinn said, falling into a role she was familiar. She clenched her dress' fabric, barely keeping her hand down, like a little stupid girl Quinn wanted to coyly wave at Santana. Her another hand moved to shake Santana’s. 

"Just call me Santana," Santana said with a soft smile.

Puck coughed. "Santana- "

"It's Miss Lopez to you, Mr. Puckerman." She was quick to shoot him down, her dark eyes never turning to look at him.

"Miss Lopez, as nice as it is to see you again." Puck cleared his throat, bringing Quinn's and this gorgeous stranger's attention. "Me and my wife should go."  
Santana shoot him a smirk. "I have a proposition for your family," she said.

"We're listing," said Quinn, the corners of her mouth tugging up at seeing Santana's smirk.

"Tomorrow, if you find time, please come to my office," Santana said." Your husband knows where it is." She looked at him with her head held high. "Now, if you excuse me."

"Talk." Quinn hissed to her husband’s ear, gritting her teeth while her fingers dug into his forearm. 

"I played with her poker few times. I…I lost everything to her."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"As I’m responsible for your unfortunate situation, I'm offering to pay all your debts you have to other people and to give you a million dollar for a night with your wife." 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Babe, it's only for a night. She's going to have her fun and we'll have the house we always dreamed of with a dog and another kid. It'll be perfect." Puck begged. 

"Puck, I can't. I just can't. Respect that." Quinn shook his hands from her petite shoulders.

It was too much.

She needed air.

"Think about your family, for god’s sakes," he said, grabbing her arm.

"I'm not going to sell myself for your mistakes," Quinn said, glaring at him.

"It's a one-time opportunity, Quinn, it doesn't have to mean anything."

"Do this for Beth. How can we provide anything to her, if we have nothing," Puck said, his clutch lessening. 

"And who's fault is that?" Quinn raised her voice.

"I messed up. I know, but I can't change that."

"Well, what else should I except from the biggest Lima loser?" She snapped. "You know, Puck, grow up, stop being this pathetic excuse of a man and start taking responsibility for once. I'm so sick of tiding your mess."

"I would fix everything, but sorry that I don't have a 'gina that she wants to drown in."

Quinn huffed. "You're an idiot."

"But, babe, I'm your idiot," he said, lips stretching into a small smile. Releasing her arm, he dripped his head lower. "She's not a devil, she's not asking for your soul, just one night of your body to make her happy and she'll make us very happy." Puck lips graced her forehead. "Do this for our family."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

She loathed him for making her agree with this mess. 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Be a good girl to your father. Okay, baby?" Quinn moved her daughter's hair away from her eyes.

Beth grinned. "When I'm not?" Her smile was pulled into mischievous one.

"When are you? "Quinn chuckled. "Demand only for healthy food."

"But a pizza is healthy." Beth puckered her lips into a pout.

"No, it's not, baby. I'm not going to nurse you if your stomach will ache." Quinn said.

"Best mom ever," Beth sighed, shaking her head.

Quinn arched her eyebrow, smiling slightly, for a moment forgetting about the world.

"Quinn, you don't want to be late. Time's money, money's happiness."

She never hated Puck's voice more than she did in that moment.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"I just want to tell you, babe, that I'm very proud of you. Not every woman could do this, but you, babe, you're the woman every man needs."

She rolled her eyes, forcibly shutting a car's doors and walking to guards.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Her black heels clicked annoyingly with each step. Ribs ached with each breath. Tears welled up with each blink.

She stopped and stared. 

What the hell's she doing? Where's her self-esteem?

Six hundred and sixty-six didn't appeared on the top of the doorframe, but when finger pressed into doorbell, it felt like it was burnt. 

After ten seconds she started to breath. 

After five more she brought her hand up again.

She should run away. Now. Leave this place, and never ever come back. 

After seventeen more seconds - yes, she counted- the door opened. 

For a minute, she was stuck inside her head. Santana was gorgeous- beautiful skin, beautiful face, beautiful body. There was a question: how much was real of the girl standing in front of her. Was it money that made her insanely attractive; or was Santana just stunning?

Santana pushed her back at the door, making a room for Quinn to walk in, and opened her palm, waving her in, in what Quinn though was a sarcastical manner.

One last breath and she went to the candy hut.

"It's nice to see you, Mrs. Puckerman. I didn't think that you would dare to show up." The polite smile Santana flashed to hear screamed arrogance, but when she slowly let her eyes touch every single part of her body it disappeared from her smile." I want to believe that we both are going to enjoy our agreement."

Quinn quirked her right eyebrow, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spin. 

She licked her lips and Santana's eyes followed. 

It seemed interesting. Santana's intense eyes fallowing her movement's like a lost puppy. Deep inside her it made her excited, wanted. 

She pushed away a blonde trace of hair from her face and, again, Santana's eyes followed. 

"Please, just call me Quinn." Her sentence in the end sounded like a question creating a frown on her own face. 

"Quinn," Santana said, eyes shining, a dreamy smile on her face. Quinn's body purred. Nobody have ever said her name like that, so softly and gently, and quietly.

It was like Santana wanted to try it on her tongue. It caressed Quinn's heart because Quinn did the same but only in her head. 

And those eyes, ah, those eyes. Quinn felt like a teenager getting simple hi from her crush. 

They were the type of darkness that wasn't dark. Santana's eyes weren't cold or icy, weren't empty or scarring. They seemed like a corner in a universe-untouchable, full of energy that could swipe you out of your shoes and keep you inside this depth of never ending darkness.

She took a huge breath and Santana's eyes dripped down. 

She's never blushed more.

"How about a glass of wine?" Santana smirked, maybe like a predator she sniffed the radiating fear from her. Or was that arousal?

"Yes." Quinn squeaked. "That'd be nice."

Santana nodded.

Quinn was confused from her own emotions. She felt nervous- that she could understand- but why did her lower parts felt that needy want she couldn't answer. 

One smirk from this beautiful woman and Quinn was ready to drop her- just brought- lace panties. That's just plain stupid. Or isn't?

The anticipation and need she felt, it made her body tingle with a feeling she's buried a long time ago.

Quinn looked around finding a leather sofa, probably costing more than their house- their old house. She sat on it, not waiting for Santana to let her, she finally breathed out, relaxing her muscles. 

The house was modern, but it was weird to Quinn. There wasn't a single wallpaper imitating a warmth of a home, no photos, not even a plank of wood. White and black colors were fighting over each other. It remained of a box. The house had as much personality as a blank page. It was clean and geometric. It was boring. 

"Here you go." Santana gave her a glass.

She wanted a bottle. 

With a shaky smile, she thanked her.

Santana smiled and held up her glass. Quinn bumped her glass of red wine against Santana's with a soft clink. 

Santana chuckled, shaking her head. Quinn shot her a confused smile. 

"What do you do for living?"

Quinn frowned at the question. Aren't they going to...you know.

"It's nothing interesting." She blushed, averting her eyes from Santana's.

"Really? I don't think so," Santana said.

"I-" She coughed, masking the next word. "work at a bar." She hoped that Santana didn't hear her.

"That's cool."

It isn't.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"How about we go, get comfortable in my room?" Santana’s hot breath found home near Quinn’s ear, like her tan hand found home on Quinn’s thigh. 

Why did it felt like Santana’s fingers walked higher each time Quinn took a sip? 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn chuckled and leaned into Santana's side, pressing her face into the crook of Santana's neck. She never thought grow up businessmen could be such silly things. Story after story like friends they shared their tales.

Just sitting there, drinking wine, creasing each other's thighs, talking on Santana's bed.

She never had seen a room with so many hues. So simple, but so beautiful. Separately from the other part of house this room was something Quinn desired.

It was elegant, but cozy. Maybe, because of those pictures scattered around it.

Santana's fingers slipped under the hem of her dress, hitching her breathing.

Her lips curled around the rim of the glass, on an already left painted streak, Quinn gulped a mouthful of wine – which now felt odd on her tongue- she put the glass on the ground. Santana leaned closer and she froze. 

She couldn’t. She was a married woman!

Quickly she pushed herself away.

Santana groaned. "Look it’s fun talking with you and all, but if you think you will fool me and play all night untouchable, you can walk right now," Santana said, not missing a beat, frowning, narrowing her eyes into a burning glare. "I don't care about your guilt, don't forget where you are. It's your choice. So you could make it easier for both of us and enjoy it or get the fuck out of here."

Santana's words didn't help much, just added salt into the wound. It wasn't that her heart ached- the guilt sat not on her chest, but inside her brain.

Who's she to step on everything she ever believed? To throw her morals through the window only because of the sinful dream.

But she's just a woman- lonely one- her family’s in need for money. So Quinn swallowed herself.

For tonight she's going to be Quinn, not Quinn Fabray or Quinn Puckerman, not even Lucy, just Quinn.

Quinn nodded and inhaled sharply, quickly pulled Santana into a kiss. Surprisingly, Santana didn't argue when their teeth clashed. 

The kiss was like two strangers meeting: very formal and mechanical.

But maybe it was the wine, as they found each other's pace, it turned from a sloppy mess to a perfect ecstasy.

After awhile Quinn relaxed.

She knew something was weird- her stomach clenching, making her smile into a kiss. She felt highly agitated and delirious.

She felt… free.

Her hand kept finding Santana's hips, tracing the dress and her face was alight for the first time after ten years.

Quinn moaned when Santana gently pushed her tongue into her mouth, tasting the sweetness of wine on her tongue. She relinquished to surrender for the sweet temptation of letting Santana take control. Even if everything inside her screamed just flow with it and enjoy it.

It was something new. Something she welcomed, but the guilt was still there. Quinn basked in the feeling of Santana responding to the movements of her tongue. Her stomach tightened and she pulled away like she's been burned, seeing dark lustful eyes, and breathed heavily out.

It was too much, too fast. She was losing herself and was afraid she'll never stop.

She waited for Santana to say that she can go, leave, and never look back. Santana didn't do that. She patiently waited, chest steadily, but fast, moving up and down.  
Santana licked her lips, pulling her closer again. It was all that she needed, a second to breath in. 

That one started slower, more intimate, not knocking all the wind from the lunges kind one.

This time when she pulled away it wasn’t of a thought to run away. This time she wanted to rip of that dress and pull Santana’s underwear with her teeth. 

Quinn eyes moved to those breasts. The dress Santana had on did wonders for her body, emphasizing her advantages- specifically making her breast swell in the fabric.

"Want to look at my babies from a little bit closer?" Quinn heard the amusement in Santana's voice.

Quinn rolled her eyes but saddled Santana's thighs, and crashed their lips.

Game on. She can do this. She can be this girl getting on with a stranger. Tonight she’s not a mother, not a wife. 

"Fuck, Quinn," Santana mumbled as Quinn tugged on her lower lip before running her tongue along it. She pulled away and Quinn felt her heart race at the sight of Santana looking at her with such need, like Quinn’s skin was begging to be touched little bit more than a wind and a sun, like her lips were inviting to kiss.  
Quinn wasn't too shy jumping on her and she wasn’t shy making sounds of enjoyment. When a first moan left Quinn's betraying lips Santana quickly pulled away. Her fingers slowly traced the sides of Quinn’s thighs, already snaked under her dress.

Her muscles tensed.

Game. It was a game. She was Quinn. Just a simple woman. 

Santana stopped and pulled away, an annoyed dark look crossing her face. Quinn gave her shy smile, ducking to kiss Santana's neck.

She hoped that Santana haven’t know till she's gone that she left a big mark on her.

Santana traced her thighs one last time, her warm hands wandering to her back, slowly she pulled the zipper down. Quinn opened her eyes, locking them on Santana's and she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Santana didn't rush to rip it away from her body. She leaned and gently laid her lips on her exposed collarbone.

Quinn shivered.

Santana's lips went down, on the top of her right breast. Quinn took a sharp breath, digging her nails into Santana's neck. She felt Santana's smirk on her skin, when she heard Quinn's loud inhale. Santana kept her lips locked on it as she slid the material off Quinn's shoulders and down her arms.

Quinn's eyelashes fluttered and she gave Santana a lazy smile. Santana's lips crashed into her, but this time, Quinn kept it slow and delicate, not trying to push the pace. Her head felt light- from the wine and a taste of Santana's lip gloss.

Santana let out a groan, battling against Quinn for the control- she doesn't want to be patient, her hands grabbed her ass, tightly squeezing it, and pushing Quinn closer to herself.

She didn't know who moaned louder.

With effortless motion Quinn pinned Santana against the matters. The guilt was already forgotten, as their hands tangled in each other's hair and lips latched for a taste. Santana didn't fight her, she let her take control for a while.

It was a beautiful sight that left Quinn mesmerized- Santana's hair sprayed on silky sheets.

Santana took away her dress, leaving her almost naked and defenseless against her greedy eyes. She shuddered at the feeling of Santana's fingers scraping up her ribs. Even the simplest touches were igniting every inch of her, but the night was young, they still had a time and Quinn could control herself.

Quinn was inexperienced, but she wasn't afraid to take what she wanted. Quinn almost ripped her dress into shreds.

"Fuck, slow down, goldilocks, do you even know how much this dress costed? Well I'- "Quinn answered her with her lips. But soon, Santana's dress joined the floor.  
Quinn's hand ventured upwards to cup Santana through her bra, Santana arched into her touch.

It was nice- being intimate with someone. Puck was a weight on top of her, with his hot breath ghosting her cheek as he rolled his hips. At the end he always thanked her, kissed her cheek and rolled to his side, while she was left to clean the mess.

It was nice having a lover that responded to her.

Santana was the first left without a bra. Quinn wanted to kiss and touch her breasts.

"They, like totally, real," Santana muttered. Quinn nodded, not believing her voice to be strong.

Quinn's hands moved with purpose, gliding over the tan skin and lingering over Santana's straining nipples. She teased them with a light pinch of her fingers. Santana managed to work her up just letting her touch her and it was ridiculous.

Quinn's mouth continued to explore every inch of Santana's.

Nails dug into her back and quickly, with skillful fingers, Santana found the clasp of Quinn's bra and managed to get it off with a deft movement.

Quinn pulled the straps down her forearms- her mind too cloudy to get embarrassed- and tossed the garment away. Another item joining the ground. Santana smirked at her, a remark on the tip of her tongue, but it's swallowed by Quinn's mouth. Their chests rubbed together, skins gliding on each other for the first time.  
When pushed her body off her, Santana wasn't afraid to ran her hand over her chest and palm her breast, running her thumb over a hard nipple, exploring the flesh. She did it excruciatingly slow. And she wasn't afraid to dominate her. Turning them around so fast. Quinn chuckled, when Santana wiggled her eyebrows, then she gave her most simple, but most beautiful smile- a one dimple decorated her cheek.

Quinn gasped when Santana moved her lips down her jawline and along the skin of her neck, tongue darting out to drag along the salty skin. Quinn felt the exhale of Santana's hot breath against her collarbone before lips made a contact with her skin. She again focused on her chest, leaving a damp trail in its wake. Santana's lips finally enclosed her nipple, it made Quinn groan and when she flicked against the tip, Quinn moaned. Idly, Quinn raked Santana's back, enjoying the attention.  
Quinn's hands were twitching in anticipation of touching Santana, she wanted, but when she tried, Santana found a way to distract her.

Santana moved to her other nipple, her fingers came up to play in unison. Quinn's hips bucked up into Santana's stomach. She was desperate to find relief for the throbbing between her legs.

Santana teased her, distracting her enough to slowly peel of her underwear. 

Game. It was a game. 

Quinn swallowed, taking a huge breath, her heart beating loudly. Santana looked at her eyes and Quinn was lost in the darkness. Santana ran her hands to Quinn's sides, tracing the outlines of her ribs.

"God, you're so beautiful," Santana whispered, reaching one hand out and letting it ghost along the skin of Quinn's hipbone.

She's didn't believe her, but she let out a small smile.

Santana's eyes were stuck on hers, for that, Quinn was grateful-it was comforting. Santana shifted on the bed, discarding her own panties, eyes never leaving hers, and Quinn felt like a biggest jerk in the world for letting her eyes follow the movement.

Santana's eyes were too intense and Quinn couldn't lift the weight, she aggressively grabbed her, kissing her with all her might. Their kisses grew sloppy and with every passing second Quinn believed that she was dripping wet. She scratched her perfectly manicured fingernails down the length of Santana's back.

Santana worshipped her body like nobody else, like Puck couldn't.

Santana snaked her knee between Quinn's legs, spreading them open. Quinn gasped, as Santana lowered herself, her thigh grazed along the wet center of Quinn's. She rocked into her, slowly, with a teasing smile on her lips.

Quinn dug her fingers further into her skin, taking a big intake of a breath.

It felt amazing.

Why have she resisted this?

Their noses merely inches apart, she could smell her, not only her perfume, but her, the unique scent of her. Quinn closed her eyes, mouth slightly open. She felt relaxed.

What a fool could fight this?

Santana snaked her hand down-Quinn almost automatically parted her legs- shifting her leg away, her hand immediately cupped Quinn's sex. Quinn wanted to be fucked right there, right in that moment. She groaned grinding her hips into Santana. She ran her fingers along the swollen, wet folds, making Quinn a gasping mess.  
"Wait for my tongue, blonde," Santana said, smug smile on her face.

"Fuck you," Quinn said.

"Later." Santana bent, pecking her stomach.

It was all too much for Quinn and she felt like her chest was going to explode with everything she felt.

Santana kissed down Quinn's stomach, for a second lingering on her hipbones and the apex of her thighs. There are no obstacles. Quinn didn't say stop. She wanted this, surprisingly, more than anything. She foresaw where this was going and she welcomed it.

Santana's lips made a contact with Quinn's clit and it was sexiest thing Quinn ever saw.

She knew she was going to hell, but there was no stopping. No father or mother to stop her, no husband to tell her otherwise.

How dirty was that?

How dirty she was because she loved it?

Santana's tongue darted out, tasting the tangy sweetness that defined Quinn. Quinn tried to stop her hips, but she was just too weak for it. A hand crawled on her stomach, warm fingers splaying on it, her muscles twitched and she bit her lip. Quinn reached down and laced her fingers through Santana's hair as Santana's tongue rolled circles around her swollen clit.

Puck never liked going down at her. He was impatient to get off. When he did, his stubble was rough on her sensitive skin. He was too quick, simulating her clit, so he could put himself into her.

Santana didn't curse, when Quinn dug her nails harder into her head. 

The wine has worn off, but Quinn didn't feel the need to hid herself. She grinded her hips and pushed herself into Santana's face. Only few more well-placed drags of Santana's fingers and Quinn's hips lifted off the mattress, her body going rigid. Only a moment, and she was falling hard, walls clenching on nothing, shiver running down her body in waves. Santana's name left her parted lips with a strangled moan. Santana doesn't stop, she drew it out every ounce of pleasure until Quinn tried to squirm away.

Quinn's skin glistened with sweat, but Santana moved from between her legs, pressing soft kisses on her skin.

"See it wasn't that bad," Santana cooed. "Now we're going to have round two and three. I have plenty of toys we can play with.” Santana nuzzled her nose against her cheek. “I want to destroy this bed, blonde.” 

Quinn shook her head, chuckling.

Jesus, where she got herself into.


End file.
